


The Morning After

by Redroxyblood



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Animal Death, Canonical Character Death, Character Death, Child Death, F/M, Forced Bonding, Forced Marriage, Forced Relationship, Near Death Experiences, Romance, Sex, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-16 01:49:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29942673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Redroxyblood/pseuds/Redroxyblood
Summary: Two strangers who had a one-night stand wake up to the Z.A, they are forced to stick together and figure out their game plan. Takes place in Atlanta, Georgia. Follows timeline but some events are different.
Relationships: Daryl Dixon/Original Female Character(s), Lori Grimes/Rick Grimes, Negan (Walking Dead)/Original Female Character(s), Shane Walsh/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8





	1. Chapter One

My head buzzed, as I opened my eyes to look around. The white painted room magnetized by the leaking sunshine burned my retinas on contact, forcing me to hide back under the matching bed set. after getting used to the light and the chainsaw in my head, I stuck my head back up.

Holy shit, this isn't my apartment.

this was way too nice to be my piece of shit place. I looked over the bedside table, holding an ashtray with a cigarette butt still in the indent. lifting the ashtray above my head, I see the logo painted on the other side.

I almost fucking drop it.

Jesus, The Hyatt? I must have dipped into my savings/my part of my grandma's will last night. I ran my fingers through my hair, this was a lot to take in with a headache. I reached over to grab the digital clock, knocking over an unopened bottle of whiskey, just to see it turn one o'clock on its face.

I hear a little moaning, light and sleepy.

Hoping that it was just the hangover, I lifted the blanket to see a naked man sleeping next to my own undressed body. He looked rugged and older, with a nice built. His hair hung in an almost natural messy way, I tried to remember what it felt like in my hands.

The memories of last night came back to me, hitting me like a ton of bricks.

I felt the embarrassment sink in, thinking long and hard about opening that bottle on the floor, and drinking until the redness in my face is something else. I also thought about laying back down, sleep the day away.

At last, I decided to get up and get my car out of the bar's parking lot I remembered leaving it in. I snuck out of bed, finding my panties first in a ball by the television set like they were thrown against the wall. Next, I found my matching bra hanging off the lampshade on the other side of the bed. I slipped them on quickly, looking down at my drinking buddy, wondering if I should wake him up.

I took another look at his face, thinking about how I have great taste when I'm wasted.

"Mmm." He moaned, feeling the same buzzing I felt as your mind kick starts.

Our eyes met, seeing the clouds of last night's partying still there, I almost think I could fall for a guy with those types of eyes.

"Morning, stranger." I smiled, but, on the inside, I was kicking myself for not being quicker.

"Not really morning," he noted, looking out the huge window with its sliding blinds closed almost all the way, which let the tiny, sharp blade of light right in.

"No, not really."

he got up, not covering himself as he looked for his things too. he acted like this was what he did every Saturday, maybe he did, I didn't know him from Adam. He only found his vest, which was on the lone reading chair in the corner of the room. He tossed it onto the bed, looking at me.

"I'm getting a shower, wanna join?"

I couldn't tell if it was the cheap booze fused hormones, or if this was a real invite, but, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't tempted.

"Can't, I'm gonna watch the weather real quick, then, I'm out." I forced out in a normal-sounding voice, sitting on the edge of the bed and turning on the T.V on the local news station.

"Your loss," he noted, slipping past me to the bathroom next to the exit.

I shook my head to myself, agreeing with him one hundred percent. It would just have to be a loss I take, thinking I've already acted very unadult like already.

I forced on the television, noticing the banners of panic that ran across it.

"...the Atlanta government has just released a statement to the public about the epidemic that has broken out just this morning..." the newswoman spoke, with huge tears in her eyes, raining down her face.

"Hey..."

Oh God, I can't remember his name.

The blood drains from my face, as the few brain cells that weren't swimming in alcohol racked together to draw up a name.

"Just...get in here." I glued together, giving up my search.

He answered my call quickly, a pearly white towel hung off his hips. Water droplets fell from his nose and ears, leaving tiny stains on the carpet.

"Watch." it was all I could say with my heart in my throat.

"...I will repeat for anyone just turning in, the dead have started rising. It is unknown what the cause is, the only thing know is it has spread very quickly and is very deadly to humans."

I walked over to peek out the window since this hotel was on the outskirts of Mariette, Georgia. I gasped at all the fires, engulfing everything in its path. I saw people looting everything they could get their hands on, but, as I looked closer, I saw someone being torn in half by a small group of things that looked like humans. I felt the tears in my eyes roll down as even on the third floor, I could see their bright red-gold color on the ground under them.

A tap on the arm brought me back, I turned and made close eye contact with nameless for the first time.

"Ain't no use in watching that, not when we have to go out in it."

I slipped my work outfit back on, deciding to skip the heels I had worn the night before. I felt stupid going out to all this shit in a skirt with an apron sewn onto it for straws and tips. I looked over, seeing that he was also just finishing getting dressed.

"Okay, what the hell should we do?"

"Well, while you were sightseeing, the television said that the government is holding everyone up in Atlanta, a high school on the other side. I'm going there if you're smart you'll follow."

I nodded. "Yeah, I'm coming."

he went to turn the T.V off, which had already ended its broadcast, and went off the air.

"Wait," I added, waiting till he turned around to face me.

"What?"

"I-I can't remember your name..." I felt the heat again, all over my body.

"I remembered yours, Gracie."

"I already feel like an ass, just tell me-"

"Daryl."

I burnt the name into my brain, tasting it on my tongue.


	2. Chapter Two

The smell hit us as we opened the door, the scent of fire and rot filled my lungs quickly. There was blood all over the eggshell white walls, some in handprints, others like buckets had just been thrown around without a care.

I leaned my hand against the wall, my stomach emptying last night's drinks onto the green carpet but with how stained it was, it made no difference to its appearance.

Daryl offered me the first drink of the other bottle of alcohol we had, the lid just barely sitting on its mouth. I happily took the bottle and pour a swig down my throat, the burn cleaned the bile taste out of my throat.

I handed it back and watched him take a bigger drink than I did.

"Think anyone else is still alive?" I asked, blinking quickly as the fire subdued.

"Doesn't look it," He noted, leading me down the hallway.

We passed the pool area, mixing chlorine into the toxic cocktail embedding in our lungs. A woman ran up to the glass, smearing blood as she clawed the windows. Even from where I stood I could see the chunk of meat missing from her leg, causing my breathing to slow. The blood from her wound was dark as dirt, the liquid she uses to finger paint bright and ruby red, that's how I knew I needed to get in there.

I felt the roughness of fingers on my bare arm, stopping me.

"Get off me." I snapped, quickly looking back at Daryl.

"What the hell do you think you're going to do?"

"Look," I said, yanking my arm back hard, making him catch himself.

"Fresh blood, someone's in there maybe even dying, they need help."

"What can you even do about it, get yourself killed, idiot." He snapped back at me.

"I'm a damn nursing student, I fucking know how to stop bleeding from an open-source."

"And the thing banging on the window?" He pointed out, making me look again at the woman against the glass.

She kept on with her fit throwing able to just make out her growls of hunger towards us.

I thought for a quick second.

"Pool skimmer, break it off in her head."

I watched him let it sink in, the dilemma it brought him.

"Fuck, we need to hurry up."

"We?" I asked, following Daryl away from the bloodied windows to the metal door next to it.

He didn't answer me, instead told me to stay close until we got inside. I listened and nodded carefully.

"You don't need to do this, I would never drag-"

"Just stop."

I kept my mouth shut and waited until Daryl popped open the door, making a loud cracking noise in front of us. I watched Daryl take the skimmer off a metal hook and break it in half, keeping the sharper half in his hands. I ran towards the lump lying in a small puddle of its own body fluids.

The young child looked up at me, his eyes glazed over with tears. I pressed my hands to the opening in his leg which poured blood.

"Mom...bit...me..." He whispered, gasping hard enough to rattle his body.

I felt tears threaten my eyes, he couldn't have been more than six. I cursed myself for leaving the first aid kit in my car. I touched his forehead and almost burnt myself.

The child grabbed my arm, weakly trying to pull me close, I leaned my head down and lent him my ear.

"I want to go home." It was even softer than before and I had to strain to listen.

"What's your name, sweetheart?" I asked almost as softly, petting his sweat-soaked hair back out of his face.

"Ben."

I smiled, "Well, I'm Gracie. It's nice to meet you."

Ben tried his best to return my smile, but couldn't muster it.

"I... want to sleep." He said, letting go of me.

I realize the tears I'd been holding in were slipping down my cheeks. I quickly looked for words to stop him, keep him up for a little longer, or even just pick him up and take him with me, but my brain was too slow. I watched the child shut his eyes and just fade away, going to the deep sleep we all take.

I went to wipe my face, stopping after seeing the blood all over my fingers. Instead, I took a deep breath, wiped my wet cheeks with the shirt on my shoulders, and stood up.

I looked across the pool to the other body with a part of a skimmer stuck in its head. I walked over and pulled it out, darken blood leaked. Once back over to the child, standing over him now, I held my breath and with all my strength, forced it into Ben's forehead. As the skin ripped and the skull cracked, my heart ached in my chest. I ripped it out and took the skimmer with me.

I slipped out of the door, gasping once I saw Daryl waiting for me. We didn't say anything but just moved along, heading again to the elevators.

The walk was quiet, nothing else tried to jump out at us looking for a meal. Once in awhile the suit doors jiggled with life, but nothing popped out.

The lights had begun to flicker, making us move a little faster. The two elevator shafts on my left hummed with life, but the door to the stairwell had a cleaning cart placed in front of it. Daryl went to take a peek through the small rectangular glass window as I pressed the button with the downward arrow between the two elevator cars.

He quickly and roughly tapped my shoulder, waving me over with one finger to his mouth.

I took a peek inside the stairwell, watching a good amount of those things wander around aimlessly, bumping into each other or moaning. Just by a glance, I could count four just close to the door.

Daryl and I backed up slowly, making sure to make no sound just as one of the elevators open with a ding.

We pressed for the lobby and stood in silence as instrumental music of a popular song played overhead. I took the time to decompress and catch my breath.

The ride stopped on floor two, opening its doors to the smell of flames from afar and that damn moaning closer but still not in sight. The lights on this floor flashed more often than the upper floor, really setting the mood.

"Thing's fucking up," Daryl noted, pushing our button again.

"Let's keep going." I agreed.

As our doors began to shut, a hand covered in dried blood and something dark like soil. His class ring still shined in the poor lighting. I hit the open button, Daryl raised the skimmer for a kill as I held my hand out to aid.

An older gentleman took it, human and not one of them, and helped him inside. He wore the same maroon jacket the bellboys wore with their work clothes, but it was definitely not part of his complete outfit, his slacks were pinstripe and wet up to the knees.

I tried asking him if was okay, but he never answered and just stared straight ahead.

I moved just a little bit close to Daryl's side of the car.

The damn thing started to hum as it might move, but with its doors still wide open. The grunts and moans of dead people walking around stayed a good breathing distance away in another part of the floor.

I turned my attention to the new rider, for some reason he just reeked of a manager to me.

I asked him if he knew what might be wrong, facing the panel of buttons to go over each one. When all I got was nothing, I stole a peek and noticed the shiny small handgun in his left hand I didn't see before.

I informed Daryl of my findings, shooting straight up. Keeping my pointer finger lightly by the button with the two long vertical lines closing in on each other.

"Don't do that in here," Daryl warned, causing me to look back at him.

"Don't do it at all, you can come with us. We're going somewhere safe."

"We draw them just by walking by, what the hell is a gunshot gonna do?"

"I get that," I said through clenched teeth. "He doesn't need to do it at all."

"Fuck, it's his choice. Stop trying to save everyone."

I begin to tell him to fuck off, and to grow a heart when a loud bang sounded off behind me. I felt the ringing in my ears before I realized the problem. I covered my ears with my hands without much thinking, knowing it was too late to do me any good. By glancing around, I saw the slow-moving puddle of warm blood hit my bare feet.

I didn't need to look behind me, I had enough clues to go by.

Everything sounded underwater, Daryl's cursing to himself about the idiot on the floor, the dumb bitch looking at him, and the undead fuckers roaring as the dinner bell was just rung.

He tried his best to bark orders at me, but they were lost in the sea of ringing. Seeing only one thing I could do as I could hear those undead fuckers cry out, was work on the doors. I stepped over the dead body quickly, trying not to slip, and pounded the shit out of the close and lobby buttons.

I could hear the skimmer rip through dead flesh like a hole puncher through paper as the ringing eased up and the chemicals in my blood rushed to my head. For a split-second I thought I might break the finger that was pushed just random buttons at this point, praying for a miracle. I stole a lookup, seeing Daryl quickly displacing undead after undead as he got close enough to his reach. They were, for now, only coming in groups of one or two, but we both knew it wouldn't stay that way.

"Fuck," I heard him say, getting tired quicker than he expected.

I gave up the buttons, and reached for the gun, looking like the same model my father used to shoot beer cans off other people's fences. I spun the chamber, seeing three bullets.

Just as I was about to start firing into the undead crowd building up, trying to walk over their finally dead comrades, the fucking doors slide shut.

The buzz in my head finally disappeared, able to think clearly without feeling like I was drowning. The heavy pounding on the metal doors was easy to ignore for the spilt-second. I pressed the lobby floor button once more, and the elevator car slowly moved down floors.

We both looked at each other with tired eyes, breathing hard as the chemicals in our bodies subdue for the time. Though he hated it, I checked Daryl over for any bites or scratches going unnoticed and made him do the same for me.

As soon as the elevator dinged and even slower than before, opened its sliding doors to the long waited lobby.

The whole place was painted in darkness, except what the big gas ball in the sky highlighted with its sharp rays from the window panes. The smell of fire and smoke was strong down there as well but could see no signs of an ongoing flame. Dead bodies laid all over the floor the way small children take naps in kindergarten.

A hard boom from the distance outside went off, shaking the ground under our feet a bit. A few of the undead rushed the glass doors, pounding loudly in a small group of five. I pulled out the gun from before, looking over to my left checking if my partner in crime was ready to attack.

"Can you even use that thing?" Daryl asked softly to me, holding out the broken skimmer to trade.

I let loose a light chuckle, cocking the gun. I was no Annie Oakley, but I did know what I was doing.

I fired my bullet into the brain of a heavyset man in dirty shorts, watching him drop like a fly. I led our two-man compound into battle, waiting and feeding the closest undead thing to be a hot metal, the blood in its veins dotted my face and bare arms like a light rain. I used my last bullet on a woman with half her face ripped off getting too close to Daryl.

"Watch your back," I added.

There was only one left, and at first, I was able to fight it off with pushing, but, the leaking blood from the other freshly killed things made the floor slippery on the bottom of my bare feet.

I fell hard on my ass, sitting in what had pooled up. Looking for (and finding) the gun had slid away.

I whispered a world of curse words under my breath, as the monster got on top of me. Wet, sappy ruby dripped down her mouth as it tried its best to snap at any meaty part of my face while holding her at bay. I looked over to see what the fuck could have been stopping Daryl from helping out when I saw the sharp piece glued into the skull of another monster and part of its handle laying still on the floor. I couldn't see him, but I heard his own grunts of manpower and alone moaning figure.

I was on my own this time.

My arms began to ache from the dead weight sitting on my arms, I knew before long they would give out and this thing's dirty lips and teeth would sink right into my throat. I tried to reach the gun with my toes to at least knock it closer to my hand.

I thought I heard something crack open, but, I paid it almost no mind.

The tears began to line up, making my vision blur. A figure got caught in my line of sight, the barrel of another gun pointing down at my head. I shut my eyes as to not see it coming, quickly hearing the click and the pulling of the trigger as the body against my arms felt even heavier. I opened my eyes and pushed the completely dead thing off me, just as another shot was fired off into the last inhuman thing moving.

"There you are brother," The new person said to Daryl, standing over him with an air of authority.

He looked like a biker with his wore out leather vest and dirty, though it looked like it was dirty before the undead, dark shirt under. I studied him over without drawing his attention, getting a feeling I didn't like.

"Enough playin' house, we're going into the city. 'supposed to be where help is for all this shit."

"Got room for one more?" I asked, walking over to them.

"No, missy," The man looked at me like a bird in a hanging cage. "We don't."

"Come on, Merle," Daryl spoke up.

"What have you been doing here little bro, acting like a man for once? We don't need a hen hanging around." Merle retorted sharply, looking at me again.

"But, shit, she is a pretty thing,"

"Kiss my ass." I shot back.

He smiled something I don't think I'd ever seen before, looking at my backside as if the offer was really on the table.

"Fuck it, your little girlfriend can come, I might get bored on the way there."


End file.
